Sword and Brimstone
by slef
Summary: Highlander/Brimstone crossover. A "self-absorbed and somewhat bored" immortal meets a soul in search of redemption. I rediscovered this OLD story the other day. don't know why I've never posted it here :-)


Sword and Brimstone  
  
A  
Highlander/ Brimstone crossover  
By Leoni  
  
December 16, 1999  
  
Disclaimers and notes at the end.  
  
Rating: PG, mild violence  
Warning: I suppose some might find this religiously offensive, I don't  
know...  
  
Summary: A "self-absorbed and somewhat bored" immortal meets a soul in search of redemption.   
  
An HTML version of this story and others can be found at my online archive  
http://www.icon.co.za/~blven  
  
Thanks to my beta readers: My pal Clor, and my grandmother :-)  
Blame any typos on them; all other mistakes are mine :-)  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------  
9:27pm, Friday  
  
Methos, oldest living Immortal, sauntered into Joe's bar  
for his customary meeting with a beer. The place was cozily  
packed as usual but when he crossed the threshold something  
felt decidedly... different.  
  
A strange sensation starting around his ears worked its way  
up over his scalp until it felt as if all his hair were  
standing at attention.  
  
Methos stopped, confused. This was not the normal buzz he  
felt when in the presence of another Immortal. This was  
something he'd never felt before, in all of his 5000 or so  
years.  
  
Searching the bar, his eyes came to rest on a man,  
thirtyish, with spiky light brown hair and three day  
stubble, staring morosely at his drink. Although Methos was  
sure the man was the cause of his discomfort, the object of  
his inspection gave no sign that he was aware of the  
scrutiny.  
  
Methos made his way to the bar where he got Joe's  
attention. The Watcher limped over and greeted him warmly,  
using his current alias because of the crowd.  
  
"Hi Adam, what can I get you? Beer?" Joe asked, knowing the  
answer. He got a distracted nod for reply as the old guy  
draped himself over a bar stool. Years of training told him  
something was amiss.  
  
"Ok, what's wrong?" he asked quietly.  
  
Methos looked over his shoulder, pointing with his nose to  
the despondent-looking man.  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
"I don't know. He came in about and hour ago and has been  
staring at that same glass ever since. He doesn't say much.  
Why?" Joe looked at his patron as he spoke. Except for  
being a bit frayed around the edges, he looked perfectly  
normal.  
  
"I can feel him," Methos replied.  
  
"Is he an Immortal?" Joe asked, a bit startled.  
  
"No..." Methos turned back to look Joe in the eyes.  
"He's... different." He gave a grin. "Oh well, I'll go say  
hi."  
  
With that, he picked up his beer and made his way to the  
man's table. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he pulled  
out a chair, sprawled comfortably, and introduced himself.  
  
"Hi, I'm Adam Pierson. Mind if I sit down?"  
  
If he expected a reaction he didn't get much. His table  
mate looked up calmly, said: "Sure. Zeke Stone." And looked  
down again, leaving Methos feeling a bit like somebody had  
taken away his cookies.  
  
Thinking of what to say next, he was startled to notice  
another man sitting at the table. This one was snappily  
dressed in black and almost oozed insincere charm. He  
addressed Stone.  
  
"Tut, tut, Stone. Drinking won't help, you know that." He  
smiled nastily. "In fact, I think this is much too nice for  
you..." He looked around and spotted Methos sitting there.  
"I see you even have a drinking buddy. This won't do..." He  
trailed off and took a closer look at Methos.  
  
"Oh my," he said. "You've been avoiding me for quite a  
while, haven't you?" He gave a knowing wink. "Never fear,  
we will meet sooner or later." He stood up. "Now, Ezekiel,  
I suggest you complete your assignment. Have some coffee to  
sober up!"  
  
Suddenly he wasn't there anymore and Stone sat staring  
morosely at a cup of black coffee standing where his Scotch  
used to be.  
  
Methos sat with his mouth hanging open.  
  
"I hate it when he does that," Stone muttered, not touching  
the coffee. He picked up a rumpled brown coat from the  
chair next to him and left, leaving Methos still gaping.  
  
Methos was very confused. The guy that had disappeared  
seemed to know him and what he was, and that fact made him  
nervous. He had to find out more, and his only clue had  
just walked out the door.  
  
He scrambled from his chair, flung a hasty "See you, Joe"  
over his shoulder and ran out of the bar. Relieved, he  
spotted Stone walking down the street and ran to catch up.  
  
"Hey! Wait up!" he called and Stone stopped and turned  
around, waiting till Methos had reached his side before  
walking on. Methos fell into step next to him. He didn't  
really know what to ask, so he asked the question foremost  
in his mind.  
  
"Who was that guy?"  
  
Stone smiled sarcastically. "That was the Devil," he  
answered in perfect truth, knowing Pierson would never  
believe him.  
  
To his astonishment, Adam Pierson merely nodded as if his  
answer explained something. Stone shrugged. Whatever.  
  
To Methos it did make sense that the Devil would know him.  
He'd done enough bad things in his long life for a thousand  
lifetimes in hell. To him, the strange thing was the fact  
that the Devil was walking around here, and speaking to  
Stone.  
  
"So what's he doing here?" he asked.  
  
Stone kept walking. "It's a long story," he said, checking  
a street name. Spotting an abandoned warehouse he stopped  
and looked at Methos.  
  
"Mr. Pierson, I have some business to attend to. Thanks for  
your company." He turned away and crossed the street,  
leaving Methos standing on the sidewalk.  
  
The Immortal was not to be put off that easily. He waited  
until Stone had entered the building, then followed.  
Looking through a cracked window, he saw Stone being  
attacked by two men. They were really beating him up and  
Methos ran in to help without even thinking about his  
normal rule of 'non-interference and the preservation of  
Methos' skin'.  
  
He accosted one of Stone's assailants and was rewarded with  
a shove that sent him tumbling to the floor, knocked  
breathless. He clambered to his knees and felt for his  
sword, but his opponent was there and he was lifted into  
the air. He caught a glimpse of strange glowing eyes before  
he was flying once more. He hit a wall and expected to  
crash down to the floor but realized something was very  
wrong as he stayed put. Looking down he saw he was impaled  
on a metal railing. As his life ebbed away he watched Stone  
aim with his gun and shoot his attacker through the eye.  
  
With a terrible scream the man dissolved into blinding  
light that was suddenly sucked away into nothing. Stone  
sank to his knees and gasped, his hands grasping at his  
chest as if something burned him. The other attacker fled,  
running and jumping through a window, sending broken glass  
raining down on Stone.  
  
Methos watched detachedly as Stone picked himself up,  
walked over and stared at him, horrified. Then Stone gently  
pulled him from the railing and laid him on the ground.  
  
"I'm sorry," Stone said, helplessly. It was  
obvious that Pierson had only minutes left to live.  
  
Methos smiled at him, wincing a little. "Don't worry," he  
gasped. "I'll be right back," and died.  
  
Stone sat watching the corpse of the man who'd died to help  
him, not knowing what to make of his last words. After a  
few minutes, he slowly stood up, and turned to leave. There  
was nothing he could do here. He'd barely taken a step when  
he heard a sound behind him. Whirling around he saw Pierson  
gasp for breath. Then his eyes opened and he sat up,  
groaning.  
  
Stone stared, uncomprehending. This was impossible, but  
then, so was his own situation. Deciding to take things as  
they came, he went back and helped Pierson to his feet. He  
was astounded to see the man's wounds had closed and except  
for torn clothes and blood, no sign remained of the fatal  
wound in his chest.  
  
They stared at each other for a moment. Then, almost  
simultaneously they breathed: "Who are you?"  
  
Methos started to chuckle weakly and after a second Stone  
joined him.  
  
"I think we should talk," Methos said. "My place ok? I have  
beer..." he grinned.  
  
"Ok," Stone said and led the way out of the building.  
  
11:12pm, Friday  
  
Later Stone found himself in Pierson's sparsely furnished  
apartment. The man seemed to have a liking for beer, as  
evidenced when he opened the fridge.  
  
"Have a beer," he said, throwing a can to Stone, who caught  
it just in time. Pierson sprawled down on a couch and Stone  
sat more awkwardly on a chair.  
  
A silence ensued. Then Methos grinned.  
  
"My house, my beer, you first," he said and waited  
expectantly.  
  
Stone sighed. "It's a long story."  
  
"I have all the time in the world," Methos told him. "On  
with it."  
  
"Right..." Stone swallowed some beer, then started. "I was  
a cop. My wife was raped and I caught the rapist and killed  
him. Three months later I was killed in the line of duty...  
and I was sent to hell." He paused, waiting to hear some  
incredulous comment but Pierson only nodded encouragingly.  
So Stone continued.  
  
"That was fifteen years ago. Recently, a bunch of the most  
evil, dangerous demons escaped from hell. I was sent to  
find them and send them back. If I get them all I'll get a  
second change to live my life..."  
  
"So your current employer really is the Devil," Methos said  
as it became clear that Stone wasn't going to say more. "I  
supposed it makes sense that he'll know who I am..." He  
opened another can of beer.  
  
"What I'm about to tell you is a secret that I've only told  
a few people I trusted," he started.  
  
Stone nodded. "It's not as if I can go about in a normal  
way myself. Your secret is safe with me..."  
  
"It's your employer I'm worried about," Methos grinned. "Oh  
well, I am Immortal..."  
  
"I noticed that," Stone commented.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Methos said. "But there's a bit more to it  
than that. I happen to be the oldest living Immortal..."  
  
"There are more of you?" Stone interrupted.  
  
"Yeah, a whole bunch of us. We all take part in what's  
known as the Game... an Immortal can only be killed by  
taking his head. We fight for the Prize, for in the end,  
there can be only one."  
  
Stone had reflexively touched his neck when Pierson  
mentioned heads. "So how old are you?"  
  
"Somewhere around 5000 years," Methos told him, watching  
for reaction.  
  
"Oh." Stone thought for a moment. "Well, this has been  
interesting but I have another demon to catch."  
  
Methos was surprised. That was it? Oh well, fifteen years  
in hell would probably make a guy less concerned with 5000  
year immortals.  
  
"Ok, I'll come too," Methos said brightly. "How do you know  
where the demon is?"  
  
"I don't," Stone answered. "Normally I have to find clues  
and sometimes I'm mistaken, but they always confront me in  
the end. I think this one will probably come after me for  
revenge."  
  
"That will make it easier," Methos commented as he got up  
and put on his coat, still concealing his sword. You never  
knew.  
  
1:25am, Saturday  
  
They were walking the streets of Seacouver, waiting for  
something to happen. Stone told Methos about the names of  
the demons tattooed on his torso, and how each name was  
burned off when he sent them back. Methos told him various  
anecdotes about his long life, nothing too personal, just  
amusing facts like the one about Cleopatra's toenails.  
Stone listened politely but Methos could see he wasn't  
really interested.  
  
Passing the gate of a public park Stone said: "In here,"  
and entered. Methos followed warily. He did not  
particularly want to get killed again so soon. Knowing  
you'd wake up did not make death any more pleasant.  
  
The park was dimly lit with widely spaced lamps, making it  
very difficult to see. Methos gripped his sword under his  
coat and tried to see where Stone had gone.  
  
Something very ugly and incredibly strong knocked him off  
his feet and disappeared into the dark, taking Stone's  
route.  
  
Methos yelled a warning, got up, drew his sword and  
followed. In a pool of light thrown by a lamp, Stone was in  
trouble. The demon was too fast and strong for him and he  
could not get a chance to shoot before he was brutally  
knocked over again. But the demon's attention was fixed on  
Stone, which meant that Methos could act.  
  
He attacked unexpectedly and was rewarded with a scream of  
pain as his sword severed an arm. The demon turned in wrath  
and Methos suddenly felt less protected than he thought.  
Still, he held his ground, and could almost feel himself  
being torn apart when thunder shook the ground. No, it was  
a gunshot, at really close range.  
  
Liquid fire ran from the creature's eyes and again the  
light grew in brilliance till it was too bright to look at  
and then all was dark. Stone sat on the ground, a look of  
agony on his face from the pain of another tattoo burnt off  
his skin.  
  
Methos dropped his sword on the grass and sat next to  
Stone.  
  
"That was fun," he remarked casually, not showing how much  
the encounter had scared him. Fighting demons was not his  
idea of a good time. Still, one had to try it once in a  
lifetime. He didn't envy Stone who had to fight another  
eighty or so.  
  
Stone looked up. "Thanks for the help."  
  
"Aww, it was nothing," Methos replied nonchalantly.  
  
Sudden clapping made them both leap to their feet, but it  
was only Stone's employer, the Devil, who stood there  
clapping in mock applause.  
  
"Well done, Stone!" he said. "Two in one day, not bad... Of  
course, you had help, so perhaps this shouldn't count..."  
  
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Stone muttered.  
  
"How could I leave you after all your hard work?" the Devil  
asked sweetly. "It would weigh so hard on my...  
conscience." He looked around, suddenly brisk. "Well, time  
to go, Stone. Say 'bye-bye'!"  
  
Stone looked up sharply but before he could speak, he  
vanished, leaving Methos and the Devil facing each other.  
The Devil frowned suddenly.  
  
"You!" he said, disgusted. "You really make me sick!  
Helping complete strangers, acting like you care. How could  
you have changed so much? I used to be so proud of you...  
now, I don't know. You really messed up your record with  
me!"  
  
Methos stood silently, accepting it. This seemed to  
irritate the Devil even more, and he disappeared in a clap  
of thunder.  
  
"But I will be seeing you again..." his voice echoed in  
Methos' head.  
  
Methos wearily picked up his sword and started to walk back  
to his flat.  
  
*Yeah, well, whatever* he thought. He hoped Stone would  
manage to catch all his demons. The guy looked like he  
needed a rest.  
  
A sudden thought struck him and he stopped in his tracks,  
aghast.  
  
*I'm out of beer!*  
  
The End.  
  
(c) Leoni Venter 1999  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Disclaimer:  
  
I don't own 'em. I don't make any money from 'em and I'm too poor to sue. I  
promise to return 'em after I'm done, none the worse for wear.  
  
Methos, his sword, Joe and his bar belong to Rysher and Panzer/Davis.  
  
Stone and his employer belong to Warner Bros. (All I could get off the  
website :-)  
  
This one was written in only one day, starting at about 1:30am and  
finishing round about 5pm, with lots of breaks in between :-) I hate it  
when a story keeps me from sleep, but oh well, rather a good story than a  
bad dream, right? 


End file.
